Down the Unbeaten Path
by The Barefools
Summary: Not everyone is who they seem. Some are, some not. But they all have secrets. When secrets are revealed, lives are turned upside down and it suddenly seems that no one and nothing involved is who and what they seem to be. Crossover with Harry Potter
1. Prologue

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Hermione missed the usual Christmas cheer of Hogwarts. This year, there simply wasn't any to be found; it was the darkest she had ever experienced. Everywhere people were scared, and Hogwarts was no different. They had good reason to fear as well: Voldemort was stronger than ever. 

Hermione let a small smile creep onto her face. That little fact was about to change. And if – no, not if – when Harry would come back to her later that evening, victorious, they would celebrate their greatest Christmas ever.

She glanced around the Room of Requirement. Everything looked perfect but she decided to check the runes and markings once more. She still had time; Harry told her that he would most likely wait till nightfall to execute his plan… Execute Voldemort.

That meant she had to begin the ritual precisely at noon. It was one of the lengthiest Hermione ever saw, but it was also the most powerful. Well, considering that sacrifice was involved, it had to be.

She couldn't even explain when the thought to do this wedged itself into her stubborn head. Maybe when Harry begged her not to come to with him because he couldn't choose the world over her. Maybe when she mistakenly pulled an old ritual book off the shelf an hour later. But it was there and it stuck.

The pentacle was perfect, aligned to South as the date and time demanded. It would have been better to perform it at midnight considering that nights were longer in this time of the year, but since Harry didn't want to wait till the next day and Hermione didn't dare explain. It should also work this way.

Next were the runes; there was one for each 'concept.' She had no idea who written it so that the needed runes were Animate, Inanimate, Dark, Light, Balance, but it made sense. The more pronounced ones that would be influencing it today were Light, Animate and Inanimate – with Balance and Dark shoved into the background. After all, she wanted it to tip the balance towards Harry.

Her alarm charm beeped and she snapped out of her reverie. It was five past noon; she'd better step into place. The way she instructed the Room of Requirement was to make a window that would only let sunshine through when it was on its meridian. It wasn't clock-noon that was needed. It was astrological noon.

The first beam of sunshine hit the exact centre.

* * *

Dumbledore was just about to go down for dinner when one of the wards on Hogwarts notified him of a large magical swirl on the fifth floor. He immediately knew the room involved. 

'The Room of Requirement?' He asked himself. 'What could be going on there?'

He started towards the Room in a speed unbecoming of his age and dignity, not that he cared about it. Throwing open the door in rage – no one was supposed to have this amount of power let alone play with it apart from him – he barged into the room and promptly tripped over the side of the pentacle.

"Great Merlin," he whispered as Hermione Granger, previously suspended in the air by sheer magic, dropped to the ground with a thud. She must have lost consciousness too, because the bright lines of visible magic crisscrossing the room started flickering and then exploded one by one. He ducked as a particularly vicious bit of magic broke through his hastily conjured shield.

Slowly, the magical storm started to die down. Carefully, with a shield still in place, Dumbledore walked to the girl. His eyes widened as he felt around for her aura.

It was gone.

A sinister smile replaced his grandfatherly one.

This was his chance.

* * *

It had been a long duel - the longest Harry Potter had ever taken part in. Most duels lasted less then a minute, particularly when he was involved. This one was still going fifteen minutes after the first spell had been cast, but it was finally drawing to a close. He could feel the end coming on. 

The day had been chosen carefully. Through the skilful application of Occlumency and Legilimency, Harry had been able to discover a day where Riddle would be alone, having sent his loyal followers out and about on an 'early Christmas gift.'

Tom Riddle had fought ferociously, but today would mark his downfall. Harry had been looking for the opening to cast what he needed to cast, and it had finally arrived. With a skilled duellist such as 'Lord Voldemort,' it was almost amazing that it had appeared at all, but there it now was, staring at him in the face.

"_Spiritus Portus"_ Harry cast, willing nearly everything he had into the spell. Riddle watched with some amusement as the spell he had never heard of before zoomed towards him. He didn't bother moving, it was obvious that it wasn't going to hit him.

It didn't. Riddle thought that was the end of the spell, and gave it no further thought.

And that was what killed him.

The spell worked perfectly, opening a portal to the spirit world directly behind him. Harry smirked as he watched it open.

Then he dropped his wand, and with his remaining strength physically charged towards his adversary.

Riddle, not expecting this strange turn of events, jumped to the conclusion that the Cruciatus he had kept _Potter_ under for so long earlier had finally snapped the boys mind. Without his wand, the boy would be defenceless against him. The dark lord raised his wand to cast the final death spell.

But he was too slow.

Harry slammed into his midsection, picking the man up a bit before slamming him through the portal that had opened.

To Harry time seemed to slow, as they both fell. He was able to do the one thing that would enable him to live through the experience: he grabbed the outside of the portal with his free arm and held tight.

A scream penetrated his hearing, only to be snuffed out a moment later. Darkness filled his vision. He released Voldemort's body, and was barely able to make out the figure as it started to float away.

Then another figure floated into view - One he had not seen for a year and a half. There, in front of him, with a big smile plastered on his face, was Sirius Black. Harry began waving, nearly letting go on his grip on the outside, but steadied himself just in time. He tried yelling, but nothing came out. He could make out his Godfathers mouth moving as well, but no sound could be heard. Harry took several seconds to take in the moment. He hoped Sirius would come closer, but there seemed to be something holding him back.

With one last look towards Sirius, Harry began pulling himself back into the real world. As soon as he had completely exited, the portal closed, and Harry's destiny had finally been fulfilled.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape, sometime Death Eater and spy, sat in his quarters. If he was honest with himself, he had always known this was how he was going to die: alone. His life had been a symphony of bad choices followed by taking the terrible responsibility for those choices. 

But it was finally coming to an end.

He took a sip from the Firewhiskey he had poured over some ice. It was the first time he had actually cooled the drink the Muggle way. He was finished with magic.

Of all the people he had considered he would probably die from, Harry Potter had never even entered the list. Life had thrown him one more curveball, however, and at this very moment, Harry Potter was taking the action that would end his life.

The Dark Mark on his arm would see to that rather well. Each mark held a soul bond with the one who had marked him, and when that person passed into the afterlife, his own soul would immediately follow.

He took another sip.

The end was nearing now. He could feel it beginning to pull at him.

The glass dropped from his hand, shattering on the floor.

There was someone waiting... someone with red hair and a compassionate smile.

Not alone. Never alone again.

In his final moment, one final slipped from his lips: 'Lily.'

* * *

Harry felt like a man reborn as he apparated back to Hogsmeade. He was finally free of this bloody destiny and free of Voldemort. Voldemort was gone. Gone for good. 

Of course, all credit was due to Hermione. She was the one who restlessly went through nearly the entire library to find anything to help him. There was much to be found on defeating dark wizards and killing them, but unfortunately not even after reading through the entire Restricted Section did they find anything on destroying a spirit as well. That was when Harry, in a bout of desperation, started to contemplate what might happen if they could just send Voldemort directly through the veil. It was like a revelation to Hermione whose eyes lit up and she kissed him.

It turned out that she had researched the Veil of Death in depth when Sirius felt back in the disastrous battle at the Department of Mysteries. She had wanted to find out if there was a way to bring him back, but had found that there wasn't. It was a one-way portal to 'the next great adventure.' Harry did not understand how that would help them, but Hermione explained that she had a chance to examine the portal. She had enough material on it to be able to create a spell that would duplicate the effect.

Good ideas could be born out of desperation.

And now he was finally free.

So many possibilities lay ahead of him now. The thought of Voldemort always made him doubt he had a future at all. He could think about his future career, and one that would definitely not involve dark wizards. He had enough of dark wizards to last a lifetime.

He wondered about all the people he killed that night, before willing himself not to contemplate on it, but not finding the strength to completely avoid it. The Death Eaters all died quick (most likely painful) deaths as the marks that were soul-bonds followed the on they anchored to death. That was actually the reason they could not kill Voldemort outright: he was connected to life through each and every one of his branded followers, and it would have been next to impossible to find them all.

One good man also died.

He remembered the conversation he shared with Snape over a good bottle of Firewhiskey. An empty one by the end of the night, actually. They hated each other very much, thank you, but hated Voldemort even more and alcohol did strange things to people, even to pungent potions professors. They had discussed death, theirs and Voldemort's. Now two of those had been fulfilled. He made a mental note not to forget about arranging Snape - Professor Snape's - funeral. Well, there was no way Hermione would forget about it, anyway.

He felt like skipping back to Hogwarts as he opened the entrance of the Shrieking Shack. True, many died tonight, at his hands more or less, but only one of them deserved any grieving. They all had given their lives to their causes. Too bad they choose the wrong one to fight for.

He stuck his head out too make sure the stone he used to freeze the Whomping Willow was still in place. It wasn't, and the tree was swishing its branches wildly, narrowly missing his head. A well placed charm set the stone back into the correct place and Harry set out towards the castle.

Harry started whistling a small tune and he sent out tendrils of magic to find Hermione. It would have been easier to go up to the common room they shared as Head Boy and Girl to check if she was there, and if not, use the Map to find her. But Harry didn't feel like waiting. He wanted to find her straight away.

A ringing sound warned him that Hermione's magic had been found. He knew that something was wrong, but could not find out exactly what… until he opened the doors of the Room of Requirement.

Hermione was there, laying the middle of a pentacle, and the magic still in the air crackling wasn't connected to her.

Albus Dumbledore kneeled above her, his face full of sadness and disappointment. "She dabbled in the darkest of magic and it turned on her, for she was neither strong enough to control it, nor had the ability to manipulate it." The old man stared at the bloodstained white robe she was wearing and rose with a sigh. "Harry, my boy, where were you?"

Harry's feet buckled under him and he fell into his knees next to Hermione. He put his hands on her chest… It wasn't beating... nor was she breathing…

Impossible…

Hermione could not be dead!

No!

Not Hermione!

He defeated the archenemy, the hero and the heroine were supposed to live happily ever after!

Why?

How?

Her face was so angelic framed by those frizzy locks. She looked like she was merely sleeping.

He bent down to give her a kiss. Her lips were cold and lifeless.

She… was not supposed to be harmed!

She had been in the castle, safe!

How?

Why?

Dumbledore seemed to understand the confusion that was in his eyes and heart. "I'm terribly sorry, my boy. It seems that she attempted a dark ritual of some sort… I think it was a power amplification one."

"Hermione…" Harry said. "Hermione, you can't be dead. See? I'm here. I defeated him, like I promised you! This is just a silly joke, isn't it? Please, tell me it is." He turned towards the headmaster who shook his aged head sadly.

"I'm afraid it's real, my boy," he answered, taking care that his voice did not betray anything but grief. Harry defeated Voldemort? How was that possible? His soul was anchored to this reality by all the marked Death Eaters.

"Magic," Harry's eyes flared dangerously. "That's the cause of everything!" He jumped up and looked around in wild abandon. "Magic causes everything to go to hell… I hated it at the Dursley's, but magic removed me. My saviour! If I only knew then the heartache it would cause me. Hermione," he caressed her face and kissed her once again sitting down next to her. "You were right. We should have just left and let the wizards to deal with their shit. We wouldn't have missed magic at all…" Tears started pouring out of his eyes. "I don't want magic… I don't want anymore heartbreak… I want it all to end…"

"Harry." the headmaster wanted to warn him that words like that uttered where the remnants of a failed ritual were still present were dangerous but he was too late. The pentacle flared up and the fake body he created burn to ashes in a mere second and the foolish "Saviour of the Wizarding World" was lifted up into the air. Dumbledore was thrown against the wall, outside of the pentacle. He watched in fascination as the magic was ripped from the screaming youth's body. These two children had now unexpectedly given him the chance of all lifetimes - on a silver platter.

A couple of seconds later Harry descended with a content, almost enlightened smile on his face. "I'm free," he muttered and looked at the headmaster who slowly got up to his feet. "Could you help me get away from here? I have no magic anymore, so it's no use staying."

Dumbledore was unnerved by the calm smile Harry wore and hastily pulled his hat from his head.

"Where do you want to go?" the Headmaster asked, all too eager to get rid of him.

"As far as it can get," Harry answered. "America would be nice."

"America?" Dumbledore asked back and Harry nodded. "Portus," he cast on the hat, knowing that only a portkey could take a Squib/Muggle that far.

"Good bye Professor. I don't think we'll meet again." Harry disappeared with a pop. Dumbledore walked away from the room. He had another lie to tell, another life to destroy.

He didn't notice as Harry's magic mingled with Hermione's and then both promptly disappeared.


	2. Secrets Have that Way of Being Found Out

Disclaimer:  
No Goauld were harmed during the making of this chapter, but some cabbages fell victim to Tapsyhapsy.  
By the way, we own nothing. We're only going to say this once, so why don't you alljust remember it? Or tell yourself that we repeated it at the begginning of each chapter. We're fine with either.

* * *

**Secrets Have that Funny Way of Being Found Out**

* * *

"Daniel, who's going to do the translation when you go ancient?" the Colonel asked the very sensible question while pulling away the archaeologist from the… the head-sucking thingy. Another explosion hit nearby. He made the decision that split second and practically threw Daniel out of the way. He moved his head towards the thing and it caught it a mere second later. There was bright light and the pain overwhelmed him.

* * *

Sam Carter, second in command of SG-1, looked at Dr Lam desperate to have her rescind her earlier words. "What do you mean he is in coma? But this takes weeks!"

"I'm terribly sorry, Major," the doctor answered in a soft voice. "I know from Dr Fraiser's files what happened, but it seems that the process was instantaneous."

"So what Jack did was totally futile?" Daniel asked with rounded eyes. It should have taken weeks, precious weeks they would have used to get hold of the Asgard and find that blasted City. The Asgard were supposed to be able to help. Truly, he wanted to find the Lost City of the Ancients, but not at this cost. Now Jack was dying and they were no closer to finding the Lost City as before. The archaeologist was horrified at his last thought. Was he turning into another Dumbledore? The end justifies all means? No, he quickly protested to himself. He was merely sleep-deprived, angry and all-around frustrated.

The Colonel was lying on the bed peacefully, as if he was sleeping. The only thing to disturb the peaceful image was the life support equipment that kept him alive. By the time they got through the gate (under heavy fire) he was barely breathing and the medical staff decided to put him on artificial respiration just-in-case.

General Hammond appeared at the door and Dr Lam tactfully retreated back to her office, leaving the commander and his flagship team to themselves.

"I'm being relieved of command," he said in a half angry half sad tone. All heads snapped towards him, except for the ever stoical Teal'c who turned towards him slowly and raised that inquiring eyebrow. Everyone stared at him, either at a loss of words or waiting for him to continue. "Dr Elisabeth Weir is taking over command."

"A civilian?" asked Carter.

"I know her," exclaimed Daniel at the same time. Attention turned to him. "She's a great diplomat, I referenced some of her work for the treaty we made with the Tok'ra. Eh, she's not really fond of the military."

Hammond nodded. Trust their archaeologist to be up-to-date on almost everything. Except maybe hockey scores and Simpsons episodes. "All I know is I've been ordered to Washington to discuss reassignment. I leave tomorrow," he simply answered. He gave SG-1 a sympathetic look, glanced at his second in command for the last time and then walked out of the Infirmary.

Possibly out of the SGC for the times to come.

* * *

Daniel stood in the Al'Kesh, looking out of the window, waiting for the coming storm to arrive. He was joined by Teal'c and Bra'tac, whose faces, while wearing their normal blank expressions, did show just hints of apprehension for what they knew they were about to face. Their presence also seemed to emphasize the fact that two of their own were not present. Colonel Jack O'Neill still lay in the infirmary of the SGC facing a still unknown fate. Major Samantha Carter was in the Prometheus, working to make sure everything was running smoothly.

The entirety of Earth's defence was ready and waiting, not that it would amount to much. One Al'Kesh, and one earth spaceship was hardly a force that would cause even a normal Goa'uld fleet pause, let alone the technologically advanced fleet of Anubis', which contained not only Goa'uld technology, but also Asgard and god knows what else.

"Scanners show numerous ships approaching," Teal'c stated in his usual calm state.

Daniel nodded. A moment later the sky began filling quickly with the large Goa'uld ships.

The battle for earth had begun.

"I'm raising shields," Bra'tac said while Teal'c moved to man the weapons. Daniel felt oddly out of place, as there was nothing for him to do at the moment.

Strangely, Anubis did not seem very concerned with the two lone ships standing between him and his goal. He basically ignored them, even as both began firing every ordinance they had. While Anubis concentrated fire on different locations on the surface, the Prometheus and Al'Kesh focused on the lead ship. Where Anubis was without a doubt causing great damage on earth, his ships shields barely rippled.

It became apparent to Daniel very quickly that Earth was about to be slaughtered, and that he would have a front row seat. He wondered if this is what it had been like for him just a year before over another planet, watching Anubis destroy his friends and family. He had been ascended then. He actually had had the power to stop something like this. Sam and Jack assured him that he had tried.

But 'the Others' had stopped him. He had possessed the power and they had stopped him. His pulse began to quicken as his face turned red in anger.

For the first time in several years, Daniel wished to take back the choice he had made back then. He had used a different power then – one the ancients wouldn't take away from him. How he wished he could have it back.

At that moment, just after voicing for the first time a desire to have it back, magic once again obeyed his command and returned to him. It had been waiting for so long – wanting, needing to rejoin those who had rejected it. It could have rejoined forcefully; the ritual that had caused its initial removal wasn't all that strong. But it held off. A forced rejoining was in no one's best interest. And now the time had come. The person – Daniel – was welcoming it back, wishing for its return. So it granted his wish.

Daniel felt the rush, and it took all of his strength not to stagger and fall. He was momentarily confused until his senses adjusted, and the nearly forgotten of power returned to his body.

With one more quick look out of the window towards the battle, he disappeared with a faint, but present, pop.

"Daniel seems to have disappeared," Bra'tac stated as soon as he noticed a few minutes later.

"Indeed. Perhaps the Asgard have arrived to help us. Something seems to be happening," Teal'c answered.

He was right, for Anubis' fleet has stopped firing.

* * *

Daniel Jackson appeared on the bridge of what he had correctly assumed to be Anubis' flag ship. It was his first apparition attempt in many years, and as far as he knew, the only one ever attempted in space. His arrival 'pop' was much louder than the one he had left behind on the other ship.

Anubis' first prime noticed him immediately. It didn't really matter, though. Daniel merely pointed his finger at the man and spoke two words: _Avada Kedavra_. A bright green light erupted from his finger and struck down the Jaffa warrior easily.

Daniel Jackson had just been the first person in history to cast a wandless killing curse.

Daniel turned to find himself facing Anubis. He began to lift his hand to cast the curse again, but stopped. Anubis didn't have a physical body; he existed in some sort of strange spiritual form that was half Goa'uld, half ascended.

"Welcome, Daniel Jackson. Kneel before your god," Anubis said instantly recognizing his visitor. Daniel didn't say anything, but raised his hand and pointed at Anubis, trying to think of what to do. He had no idea what sort of an effect magic might have on a half ascended being.

"What are you doing, waving your hand around? You're no longer ascended, you have no powers," Anubis taunted. Daniel kept silent, but thought two words: Brute Force.

When Daniel finally did speak, it wasn't in answer to something Anubis said, but the incantation to a single spell that hadn't been used in over twenty years.

"_Spritus Portus!"_

Just as the last time this spell was used, a portal to the spirit world opened up. In a familiar repeat of history, Daniel physically threw himself at his opponent, catching him in the midsection, around the robes that hung on the force field containing Anubis' spirit.

Anubis' yell died as they passed through the portal. Daniel was smart enough to grab onto the edge so that he would be able to pull himself back. He released his hold on the Goa'uld's robes and watched the form begin to float away.

He began pulling himself back when he saw two other forms there, waving at him, both of who were quite familiar. The first, Sirius Black. The second, Janet Frasier. Sirius had one arm around Janet while his other waved in the air. Both of them were smiling happily.

Daniel felt his heart catch in his throat and tears threatened to appear on his face. With one long last look, he pulled himself back. The portal sealed itself back up and disappeared.

In a daze, he walked towards the window so that he could see what effect the loss of Anubis might have, if any.

The battle had completely stopped. Then one by one, the ships began disappearing into hyperspace. The flag ship was soon the only one left, but Daniel could feel the hyper drive generators powering up. With a very loud 'crack' he disappeared.

* * *

Daniel reappeared on the Al'Kesh forcing Teal'c and Bra'tac to tense and swing their weapons towards him before realizing who it was.

"What Happened?" Bra'tac asked. "Was it the Asgard?"

Daniel blinked once and then again, realizing that he really didn't know what to say. Finally, he said, "I'll explain on the base."

"What is the fate of Anubis?" Teal'c asked.

"Anubis is finally gone."

Teal'c and Bra'tac shared a look. "Can you be sure?"

Daniel nodded, smiling slightly, "Definitively."

Bra'tac cracked a smile of his own. "Then I must share this news with our people at once. Lok tal, Teal'c."

"Indeed. Lok tal."

With that, Teal'c and Daniel ringed over to the Prometheus.

* * *

Daniel hurriedly went towards the Infirmary, Teal'c trailing him in a much more sedate manner. Yes, he knew that he should have first gone to Elizabeth to tell her about the battle, but Jack had been his friend for ten years… was it really that long? And also, he didn't quite know what to tell her. Sure as hell he couldn't just say, 'I'm a wizard, and I sent him directly to the next great adventure?' She'd have him locked up… or maybe, as weird stuff as it happened around the SGC, she might even believe him.

He rounded another corner and practically burst through the Infirmary door. He still couldn't believe it. His magic was back, after more than twenty years. Was that even possible? Daniel wanted to go to Jack and check if he could help his best friend magically. True, some memory modifications would have to take place, but Jack would be fine.

Sam sat next to the bed just as he last saw her. He knew that Sam went up to the Prometheus to man, well, woman the weapons system, but she was already back, and looked just as forlorn as she was when Daniel left Earth a week before.

"Sam," he said softly, "When was the last time you ate?" Her strained smile was all the answer he needed. Daniel turned around as he heard the heavy footsteps behind him.

"MajorCarter," bowed the tall Jaffa. "It is unwise to go long periods without the intake of nutrients." It was clear that he heard Daniel's last words and neither of the two could hold back a small smile at the roundabout way Teal'c chided her.

"I know," she answered, "But I just can't leave him… If only I…" she stopped, clearly fighting back her tears. "I just don't know what to do," she said barely in a whisper before the tears finally started to fall. Daniel could not watch any longer and went to hug her. Teal'c watched over them, silently shutting the door so that no one could disturb his friends comforting each other.

* * *

"What happened, Daniel?" asked Sam. They were in the briefing room, waiting for the commander to step in. She suspected that something/someone from the times he was ascended helped, otherwise how could he have defeated the half ascended/half Goa'uld Anubis?

"I'm not sure… All I know if that suddenly a portal appeared behind Anubis," Daniel answered. "And my instincts were practically screaming to shove him into that portal. It looked like the Stargate, but there wasn't an event horizon, just a ragged looking veil."

"Do you think it could have been Oma Desala?" Sam asked, contemplating his answer. She was right, it had to have been ascended knowledge that helped Daniel.

"Must have been. And," he sighed deeply, "it was a portal directly to the next great adventure, I mean death… I almost fell in it… And I saw Janet… and my godfather."

He didn't see Elizabeth standing at the doorframe and intent on stepping into the room after having heard the explanation, but freezing as she heard the term Dumbledore usually used to refer to death. This was entirely too eerily, as if someone was trying to mess with her head.

"You godfather?" she asked as she continued into the room. The archaeologist turned towards her and she gasped. That scar!

"His name was Sirius Black. He was a good man, but he died a long time ago," he answered without noticing the woman's reaction.

Elizabeth just had all of her suspicions confirmed. Someone was trying to mess with her head big time. Harry's scar on a member of SG-1, a portal that was just too similar to the one she created to help Harry defeat Voldemort used on Anubis. Magic was involved here and she would have the head of the North American Wizarding Council if they had allowed a wizard on the base in spite of the Presidential order forbidding it.

Her mind began racing, not paying attention to the others in the room anymore, neither caring about the fact that they had been waiting for her. Whoever this bastard was, they knew she would recognise the scar. That meant they knew about her… Only Dumbledore knew about her, so he must have been involved. Elizabeth's blood started to boil. So the old codger wanted to play again? She squared her shoulders. If Dumbledore wanted to play, she was game. The old man had no clue who he was messing with.

Her eyes narrowed on Daniel finally. "Maybe you should stay on the base so that… certain elements wouldn't get wind of your newfound knowledge, before we figure out what to do with you," she told him. The shock on the fake-archaeologist's face showed her that whoever sent him… this person, it could be a woman under Polyjuice, they weren't counting on this kind of reception. What the hell would they be thinking, impersonating Harry in her presence? Did they have no decency or at least common sense? She stopped at that thought. This was magical folk she was thinking about. They had no decency and/or common sense.

"Elizabeth, I don't…" he started. Whoever it was, someone did their homework. This was Daniel through and through, even down to the gestures and tones. Maybe he was just a tool, under Imperius and charmed in appearance?

"That was an order, Daniel, not a request," she answered in the best commanding tone she could manage.

"You can't give me orders. I'm a civilian," he pointed out. Elizabeth was floored. Wizards went as far as to figure out how military and civilians were affiliated? Well, no problem. She wasn't military either.

Teal'c raised a warning eyebrow and Major Carter looked just about ready to try some of her nastier gadgets on her. Elizabeth was game. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm civilian as well. You better get used to the idea of doing what I say _when_ I say it. Clear?"

She took a deep breath. "You're staying on the base till further notice."

Elizabeth whirled around and left the briefing room and its shocked occupants.

* * *

"What do you think that was all about?" Sam asked as her, Daniel, and Teal'c entered her lab.

"This was strange behaviour, even for a Tau'ri," Teal'c observed.

Daniel frowned as he took a seat in one of the chairs. "She didn't even mention the battle. Something strange is definitely going on."

"What are you saying, Daniel?" Sam asked.

"Look, Weir was assigned just as we discovered Anubis' threat. Afterwards, without paying any attention to what was perhaps the most important battle for Earth yet, she came down on me, restricting me to base."

"It is possible that Dr. Weir has been compromised," Teal'c said.

"I'll check it out. A simple background check ought to at least start us off in the right direction," Sam decided.

* * *

The computer buzzed slightly as it booted. Sam drummed on the table as she waited for the operational system to report then typed in her password furiously. She wanted intel on Dr Elizabeth Weir, PhD, and she wanted it yesterday. Why was that bloody computer taking so long to start up?

Finally, she was able to start the government searcher the SGC was also signed into; it allowed them to do background checks on people should the need arise. Like when they had to track Seth. Now she had to track her own commander to see if she had some shady background.

The first line of defence surprised her. Okay, she was the commander of a top-secret military base, but not even General Hammond's file had that strong first protection. It took her five minutes of careful work to break through to the most basic information.

Name: Weir, Elizabeth Jane

Maiden name: Weir, Elizabeth Jane

Status: single

Mother: Weir, Elizabeth Anne

Father: Granger, Michael Edward

Siblings: none

That was all. She decided to run a quick check on the family first. She might find something there and maybe she wouldn't need to break into top notch security. It was weird for a child to have her mother's name instead of her father's.

The parents were a dead end. While there was a lot of stuff on them, mainly from dental circles, both of them died over fifteen years before. Sam skimmed over the information. Both of them were dentists, they meet on a conference, then got married. Elizabeth Weir Snr moved to Great Britain. They had one daughter, Hermione Jane Granger. That's strange. So Hermione Jane Granger, for some reason, took up her mother's maiden name and moved to the US.

This could very well have been an important piece of information, but it did not help her right then. She stored it away for future reference. She looked for school records. Now that she knew where to look (i.e. Great Britain) she had a better chance of finding them, and (the non-Goauld) gods were with her.

She struck gold.

Hermione Jane Granger attended Hogwarts School for the Gifted. The problem was the Hogwarts School for the Gifted didn't exist. There was a phone number and an address, but as Sam run both of them, they turned out to be fake. This was about the worst constructed cover story she ever saw. Not counting their own "deep space telemetry" or course.

Sam continued her light reading. For some reason, Miss Granger left her non-existent school before she graduated. Instead, she was home-schooled for a year than took her A-levels in a London high school. This one really existed.

She sighed as she finished. While this was all nice and intriguing, the NID didn't exist twenty years before and thus gave her no real help. Rubbing her hands together, she decided to try to delve into the top-security file anyway.

After hacking her way through the protections, she was disappointed. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to link her to the NID or anything remotely shady. Everything about her was clean. The name change was legal. The moving to the US was legal. Her university records, everything was in order. Why was it so heavily protected, she couldn't even fathom. There was a lot of classified stuff on sensitive international treaties, which would have warranted security. But even then, her clearance should have gotten her through without a hitch.

After the thorough background check, she came up empty handed. There was that nonexistent-school mystery, lot of antimilitary and basically anti-superpower stuff, but she was either very clever or very innocent.

But why in the seven hells did she confine Daniel to the base?

As much as she tried to think the logical possibilities through, there was none.

And she didn't seem worried about Daniel at all. She was very angry for some reason. Yes, she clearly recalled that Weir simply glanced and the archaeologist before blowing up at him.

Sam unfortunately didn't know that in her thirst for knowledge, she tripped several trap wires. Normally, she would have been more careful and observant, but she truly wouldn't have thought that the diplomat and political studies professor would have them.

Because of this, Elizabeth Weir's laptop started beeping.

"New Mail," it said.


	3. When Your Parents Told You

**Sticky**

As an electric engineering student with a very heavy physics background, I won't be fooling with time. There is _**no** **time travel**_ in this story. The Stargate storyline comes linearly after the HP storyline. Creative license.

Until you show me a page from any Harry Potter book that says "Harry Potter was born on July 31st, 1981" or something alike it's not even AU/AR. Sir Nick's 500-year Deathday Party doesn't count. You honestly want me to believe me that a ghost took care to note the exact years? Anyway, I'm going to counter that with the 665-year old Flamel. He was **_not_** born in 1325. (He built a house in 1407 and in the 15th century, people didn't live 82 years.)

Just because the CoS DVD timeline says something, it's **_NOT CANON_**.

Tapsyhapsy

* * *

Important Note: No cabbages were harmed during the making of this chapter. 

**Warning: Use of the f-word.Four times. **

* * *

**When Your Parents Told You Not to Stick Your Nose into Someone Else's Business, They Meant It**

* * *

Sam got up from her computer desk and considered her findings. She could go tell Daniel and Teal'c. The problem was that she didn't have anything major to link her to the NID or prove that she was compromised. She should just confront her alone. Hell, she was an Air Force Major, not some sissy. 

The corridors of the SGC were empty. Most of the staff was on a leave, celebrating the end of another planet threatening crisis. She stopped by the gateroom. The giant superconductive naquadah ring looked so beautiful. Someone said beauty always carried dangers. They were right… now the Colonel's life hung on the balance, and they were in trouble with the base commander.

Sergeant 'Chevron Locked' Harriman looked up from the gate diagnostic programme. "Ma'am?"

"Nothing Sergeant, just admiring the view," she answered with a strained smile.

"The Colonel also comes here often. He says it makes him at peace," answered the technician guessing what she was thinking. "We all wish we could help him," he added softly. "SG-2 is still on K'Tau trying to contact the Asgard."

Sam didn't know that but it didn't surprise her either. Her Colonel was very popular with the base staff and most of the people would have gone through anything to save him. Of course, 'no one is left behind,' but it was slightly different at this base. They have been through so many crises threatening the entirety of the planet and all were classified – the base staff had no one to confide in but each other. The SGC was like one big family, all caring for most people deeply. And SG-1 was the 'favourite child.' The one that always got into trouble, but the parents could not help loving.

She sighed and decided to get going. The gate diagnostic (she couldn't help but glance at it) was all green and it ended. True, she could continue to gaze at the gate, but it would get her no closer to her aim: finding out the mystery of Hermione Elizabeth Jane Granger Weir.

Taking the stairs at the end of the control room, she trekked up a storey to the base commander's office. To her surprise, Dr Weir was standing in the briefing room and staring at the Stargate, just like she did a couple of minutes ago. The woman suddenly noticed her presence and whirled around. Sam was shocked to see her tear-stained face and ruined make-up.

"Major Carter, what can I do for you?" she asked, hastily digging into her pocket most likely to get a handkerchief. Finding one, she quickly wiped her face clean and continued to look at Sam with haunted eyes, almost causing her to reconsider this whole confrontation thing. But this further intrigued her.

Was she being blackmailed by the rouge NID? That made no sense because in that case she wouldn't have restrained Daniel into the base, keeping him out of their clutches. Was she trying to protect him with her actions, just as she said? Why the tears then?

"Major Carter?" Weir asked again. Sam snapped out of her thoughts.

"Oh, I wanted to discuss something with you, Doctor," she paused, "Granger."

The woman stiffened at the name, but it wasn't fear in her eyes. There was shock, and something else… Sam couldn't decide whether it was pain or hatred it disappeared so quickly. Weir really was a diplomat through and through.

"Hermione Granger is dead as far as I'm concerned," she answered in a voice colder than ice. Sam stopped herself just before flinching. "Is that the thing you wanted to discuss?" her voice could have frozen the Sahara itself, the other woman thought nervously. Maybe she should have asked Teal'c to accompany her. The Jaffa could be really scary even without trying. Or maybe she could have used a more subtle approach.

She gathered her courage. "No, actually I wanted to talk about your non-existent school too. But the real thing is about Daniel. Why did you do restrict him to the base? I hardly believe it was for his own protection."

"The school is classified information. I don't know where you got it, but you shouldn't have been able to access it. And about your so-called Daniel, did you not notice the difference in his behaviour and appearance?" Weir asked.

Sam thought for a second. Daniel was the same. Talking a lot, talking fast. Change in his appearance? Apart from another haircut, there was nothing different. And Weir hadn't been here for long, how could she notice any differences?

"I'm talking about the scar on his forehead," the woman added in a mocking voice as she sat down to the head seat of the briefing table. "Surely you've noticed that lighting shaped scar on his forehead? With all you experiences in charades don't you suspect something's off with the sudden appearance of such an old-looking scar?"

"Do you think he's an impostor?" Sam laughed. "Come on, that scar must be from the battle with Anubis." Daniel was the same old as always. They'd been on the same team for more than eight years, she'd notice.

"Oh really…" Weir answered in the same mocking tone she used earlier. "That's why it didn't bleed and is perfectly healed, that's why it looks just like the one…" she paused and her voice softened, "an old friend of mine used to have."

"You're saying that someone is impersonating Daniel from your past?" Sam asked incredulously.

Unfortunately this made the base commander blow up, almost literally. She jumped up from the seat she was lounging in and advanced on Sam. "No! Those bastards think they can reach me even here, but I'm going to show them that if they want to smear Harry's memory, they are going to pay BIG TIME!" She almost screamed the last two words. "Big time," she whispered, almost collapsing but grabbed another chair to support herself.

"But it takes really advanced technology to perfectly imitate a person, and even better to change slight differences about them," Sam tried to reason with her clearly upset commander. It all made sense now… How she snapped at Daniel after seeing that scar… even the tears. Most of the pieces of the puzzle were in place. She had to admit, impersonation might be a possibility, but who could get their hands on that kind of technology? At least this solved her problem. These emotions were just too real, Dr Elizabeth Weir (whatever inconsistencies might be in her background) was not compromised.

"Make no mistake," Weir replied, sounding tired from her earlier outburst. "They _are_ powerful, and if they want to stretch their claws, they can reach far." She sat down to the chair she used to support herself and buried her face in her hands. "Hermione… Hermione couldn't escape them. She couldn't bear what they did to her… and Harry… she lost too much."

This revelation came out of the blue and surprised Sam. On the other hand… it made little sense. Some pieces were still missing, but most of those would be supplied by duplicate-Daniel. She cleared her throat to catch Weir's attention. "Yes?"

"How do you think they are impersonating him? And do you have any guessed to the culprit's identity?" Sam was all business. After all, she had a base to look after until the Colonel made it out of coma.

"The culprits are way beyond your reach, Major," she answered with a small, bitter laugh. "Beyond mine, too. This will have to go through the President's office, I'm afraid."

"But how are they doing it?" Sam insisted.

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me. I've seen much that 'no one would believe' in the eight years I spent at the SGC," the major pointed out.

Weir looked up and sighed. "Sit down Major. This will be a long explanation."

When she sat down facing her commander, Weir started speaking. "Most likely I should just start by saying magic exist." She held up a hand to stop Sam from interrupting. "I told you it's an incredible story. Non-existant Hogwarts 'School for the Gifted' is in reality Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the best magical school in the United Kingdom. America has its own."

"Magic? You must be joking!" Sam blurted out because she just could not help herself. Aliens were okay, because people, no matter how deep down, always knew that the universe was just too big to be alone… but magic? Then Weir sincere gaze made that line of thoughts go further… because no matter how deep down, people always though that some kind of magic also existed. Children couldn't even be put off from the idea. Might it be that they were just more aware of their surroundings than adults just as she was more aware about aliens than they were? She looked up at Weir again. "Okay, continue."

"To cut the long story shorter, there are lots of way to use magic, and disguise is one of them. There is a so-called Polyjuice potion that only needs a strand of hair or piece of nail from the original person to work then it makes the one drinking it a perfect replica. This one needs an hourly dose to work. There are also less perfect means, but still able too fool almost anyone."

"How does this Polyjuice potion work?" Sam asked. Once a scientist, always a scientist. She wanted to know. "Does it need magic to be prepared?"

"I honestly don't know how it works. Magical folk are quite content that something works and never ask whys if they can. And it needs lots of magical ingredients that Muggles – non-magical people – can't even see."

"So I take it these magical folk are hiding from us… Muggles?"

"Yes. They mainly use the fact that Muggles are hesitant to believe magic exists and dismiss strange things as figments of their imagination. They have their own sub-society, complete with villages, magical districts and government," Weir elaborated.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this. Are you one of this magical folk?"

"They're called witches and wizards. The wand-waving kind," the woman answered after a pregnant pause avoiding Sam's original question. Teal'c would have raised an eyebrow if he was there. Then she continued. "I was the magical advisor to President Patrick Martin. Very few people in the Muggle government know about magic, in fact only the President and some high ranking Congress members. There is something called the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692, stating how the magical governments should keep the Muggles unaware of magic. I'm currently breaking it, but since the Federal Magical Congress isn't keeping their end of the bargain... well, let's say I don't particularly care about it."

"There is a bargain about the SGC?" Sam asked wide-eyed. It was a thing the magic existed, but that they existed parallel to the normal world and even made bargains about it?

"Yes. The SGC is to keep one hundred percent wizard and witch free while under serious magical protection. It was part of an agreement between the Secretary of Magic and President Martin, concerning the armed forces," Weir answered. The Major could very well imagine her as brokering that agreement being the diplomat she was. "But since it's most likely not a Muggle using magical means to impersonate Daniel, the Magical Congress can be held responsible. We're supposed to have wards that prevent infiltration through their means." She stood up. "Major, this is all I can tell you. Now, I have to phone the President again, hopefully he'll be available this time."

Sam was left alone to ponder on just what implications magic could have on their lives.

* * *

Daniel stood above the prone form of Jack O'Neill, beads of sweat on his brow. It seemed that all his magic wasn't able to heal whatever had taken his friend away. His eyes opened and he withdrew his hand from over his forehead. 

He decided on a more direct approach and pointed a finger towards the Colonel.

"Legilimens," he whispered.

A microsecond later he was thrown violently against the wall.

* * *

Teal'c had been watching Daniel very carefully. While he did think Weir's actions were strange, he had also noticed that Daniel had changed as well. There was something different, almost intangible, but present never-the-less. 

That feeling grew when Daniel began putting his hands over O'Neil's forehead. That was when Teal'c saw something that completely baffled him. Daniel had pointed a finger and O'Neil and spoke something in latin. 'Legal Mind?' Teal'c didn't know what it meant, but as soon as Daniel had been thrown across the room, he knew something very very strange was going on.

Teal'c pushed the red alarm button next to the door and pulled out his zat. Immediately, armed guards began to arrive. After taking on look at the large jaffa pointing a weapon at a body on the floor, they followed suit. Soon there were five more weapons pointed towards Daniel. Dr. Weir and Sam arrived only moments later.

"What's going on here?" Weir demanded.

"I believe Daniel Jackson just attempted an attack on Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c stated evenly.

"What exactly happened?" Sam asked.

"It was strange. Daniel pointed his finger at O'Neill and said 'Legal minds.'"

"Legal minds?" Weir made the connection in her head automatically. Roughly translated 'Legilimens' could be taken as that. "Clear the room, people. Only SG-1 stays."

The armed guards who had arrived hesitated for only a moment before they began backing out of the room. They didn't understand what was going on, but they rarely did – especially where SG-1 was concerned. When they had gone, Teal'c went and locked the door.

"Does this make any sense to you?" Sam asked Dr. Weir.

"Unfortunately, yes. Legilimens is a spell incantation used to read memories, images, and feelings from other people's minds. Whoever sent Daniel is obviously trying to get their hands on the ancient knowledge Colonel O'Neill has stuck in his mind."

If Sam hadn't fully been on board before, she was now. Daniel was acting strange, and it couldn't be a coincidence.

"Dr. Jackson has been compromised?" Teal'c asked as he resumed his position of guarding Daniel.

"It seems that way, Teal'c," Sam answered. "It's a strange story, but I have confidence in what Dr. Weir is telling us."

Teal'c raised his eyebrows, but stayed silent. It had been Daniel that suggested that Dr. Weir was compromised. It was also Daniel that had seemingly attacked Colonel O'Neill. He gripped his zat just a little harder.

There were a few moments of silence before Daniel began to stir. In that time, Weir did something she had never done before: picked up a sidearm from Sam. While she didn't trust herself to actually point it at Daniel – she was afraid that in her anger she would pull the trigger – it would help protect herself from someone magical, even though she had none.

"Well, that was interesting," Daniel said before shaking his head and standing up. It was at that point he actually noticed the weapons pointed towards him, and the look of anger on his team mates and 'commander's' faces. He frowned and stuttered, "Er, what's going on, guys?"

"You attacked Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c stated evenly. Sam and Weir shared a look. Whoever this 'Daniel' was, they were good. It must have taken them years of training to be able to impersonate someone this well.

Daniel was silent for a few minutes while he figured out what must have happened. The last thing he remembered was trying to help Jack, and then nothing. He had tried the Legilimency spell, and something must have gone wrong. He realized then how serious the problem was. There was no way he could just say that. Perhaps he could fall back on the old 'sudden reappearance of ancient knowledge' excuse? His thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Weir.

"Who are you exactly, because I don't think you're Daniel Jackson. What really happened up there with Anubis?"

That settled it for Daniel. If they were going to be bringing that up too, he no longer had a choice really. "I don't know exactly how it happened, but while I was on the ship with Teal'c and Bra'tac, a lot of the knowledge I had gained as an ascended came back to me. I was able to somehow – I don't know how to explain it, really. I was able to transport myself over to Anubis' ship and finally destroy him."

Sam wavered at this point. What Daniel was saying could possibly have happened, and the story Weir had told her was pretty fantastic. As a scientist, she went with what she knew, and she continued Daniel's explanation smoothly. "And with Colonel O'Neill, you thought you would be able to help him with this knowledge?"

"Yes, that's it exactly. Why don't you guys lower your weapons now and we can discuss this normally?"

Sam did just that, and Teal'c followed her lead, however Weir only tightened the grip on her own.

"You may be spinning a story that makes sense to these two, but I know that isn't the truth," Weir stated angrily.

"Why are you so sure of that, Dr. Weir? I know you're new here…" Daniel started to placate, but was interrupted by an even angrier Weir.

"Because of that damn scar on your forehead!" she bit out. "What did you think was going to happen? I would just see that scar, and know what was going on? That I would willingly help the world that I hate – that I swore I would never participate in again?"

Daniel had paled considerably, to the pleasure of Dr. Weir. Sam and Teal'c, however, were a much different story, and were beginning to consider the possibility that Weir had lost her mind. No one, unfortunately, was thinking very rationally.

"Where's a mirror," Daniel demanded just as much as asked.

"Why don't you just conjure one, you imbecile," Weir snarled. Daniel wasn't listening though, and had hurried to a medical cart to find a mirror. Locating one, he hesitantly took a look before dropping it immediately in disgust.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, and Mother Fuck," Daniel swore. Sam and Teal'c were extremely surprised. They had never heard Daniel speak like that. The situation had just changed radically once again. But not as much as it would with Daniel's next statement and question. He turned towards them slowly.

"So now you know. The famous Harry Potter, now a muggle archaeologist. Now my question is: What are you going to do about it?"

* * *

"Harry Potter? You… are?" Weir staggered backwards and found the wall, which she leaned against thankfully. "Dumbledore… said… you died!" she struggled to complete the sentence. 

"You seriously believe everything Albus my-dear-boy-manipulative-bastard Dumbledore says?" Daniel answered incredulous. It seems that in the twenty-odd years he hadn't been in the magical world, their common sense had not improved. Any.

"I saw the body," the woman countered softly as she struggled to stay upright even with her back to the ball. So tired. She really should have slept some when Walter sent her to bed, but Anubis was on the verge of attacking Earth at the time.

Sam and Teal'c felt somewhat left out of the conversation, because they didn't know what to make of it. They had actually more question than when this whole mess started. Was it that both Weir and Daniel were right or neither of them was right? Who was compromised by who and who was impersonating who? Had Daniel been always a different person and they never noticed it? Whoever the heck was Albus Daniel-hates-him Dumbledore?

Moreover, Sam couldn't help but wonder if 'Harry Potter' was the same 'Harry' Weir mentioned she lost. Or Hermione did. She felt a headache coming on. This was all too confusing.

A small silence descended over the room, only broken by the rhythmic beep of the monitors attached to Colonel Jonathon O'Neill. They all glanced over to his prone form, lying on the bed and wished he would be here and sort out this mess.

"So… you truly are Harry Potter?" asked Weir in a small voice.

It sounded so familiar, but Daniel couldn't place it anywhere. Those brown eyes were so hauntingly familiar. He'd never met her. She must have resembled someone… but who? Hermione, a part of his mind whispered. He'd blanched slightly and did what he always did to that part of his mind: stomp on it, squelch it, and bury it as deep as he could. The façade he developed over the years was the only thing that kept him from having a minor emotional breakdown. He so not wanted to go down that line of memories.

"I guess the scar is a dead-giveaway," he answered. Jack would have been proud of that comment. Sarcasm 101, taught by the best.

"Actually…" Weir answered. "No. It's not that hard to fake a scar with magic."

She had a point, Daniel had to admit.

"Err, hmm, well. You're right," he mumbled. "But hey, I have something better," he suddenly remembered. He took off his glasses and put them on the table then grimaced as he took out the coloured contacts. Vibrant green eyes stared at Elizabeth. "I'm told the colour is quite unique?"

He could not for his life guess what made her react so strongly. There was a whisper of "Harry?" and she fainted. Had they known each other? He couldn't remember her, but twenty-something years change people very much. Thankfully Teal'c was there and caught her before she hit the floor. The large Jaffa gently placed the woman on a bed and looked over to Daniel.

"DanielJackson, I believe you owe us an explanation?"

The archaeologist nodded absentmindedly as he continued to stare at the unconscious woman. Have they really known each other? Was she a witch? No, she had no magical aura. She didn't even have those minor magical flares that muggles gave out. He didn't get to know any muggles while he was still Harry Potter. Why was she so familiar? Daniel quickly decided to quit this line of thought before it brought up other painful memories. Like Herm… _Stop it, Potter!_ he screamed at himself and took a mental double take. He was Potter no more.

He glared at Weir's form on the bed for making him remember so hard-fought memories. Or would have, he realised with a couple of blinks if Sam wasn't waving her hand in front of his face.

"Daniel… Harry?" she started but Daniel quickly interrupted.

"Daniel. Harry Potter is dead… well, not really, but I'm not Harry anymore," he interjected.

"Okay, Daniel, what the heck is going on?" she asked, a little put out. Daniel grimaced. A full-scale Doctor-Major Samantha Carter interrogation was not a good thing.

"MajorCarter, maybe we should inform DoctorLam to assure that no harm has come to DoctorWeir," Teal'c said and Daniel couldn't help but be grateful to him. Saved by the Jaffa.

"Yeah, we should," Sam agreed and moved to the phone while Teal'c unlocked and opened the door.

A couple of minutes of silence and a brisk doctor later, it was clear that Elizabeth Weir forgot about a couple of meals and nights of sleep because of Anubis' attack and was simply suffering for exhaustion and malnutrition.

Dr Lam left, but not without ordering SG-1 firmly to get some rest themselves, giving Sam and pointed glare and muttering 'commissary'. The blonde woman gulped and nodded. Dr Lam was almost as good as reading her as Janet was, or maybe she just read those little notes Janet loved to leave in personal files. 'Tends to forget to eat when stressed.' This was Sam. 'Tends to forget to sleep when stressed.' This was Daniel. She wondered what was in the Colonel's file. Surely there could be no such observation about Teal'c.

She glanced at Daniel, who was still glaring at Weir.

"Did you know someone called Hermione Granger?" she asked softly remembering the woman's comment about Harry Potter. As Daniel's gaze turned to her, she instantly realised her mistake. The raw pain in his eyes – so green, so intense – shocked her.

"I… I don't… I don't want to talk about," stuttered the normally eloquent archaeologist/linguist. Sam's question triggered his escape reflex and normally he would have quickly found an excuse to leave and lock himself into his office. But now, he had magic. He concentrated on getting away, forgetting that apparition needed a destination, but his subconscious was quick to jump in and guide his magic to the place all of his troubles started: Hogwarts. More precisely, the person who caused all of his troubles: Albus Dumbledore.

Sam watched wide eyed as the place where Daniel stood before a moment ago was empty. There was nothing telltale to signal transportation – light, rings, etc – just a barely audible pop. One millisecond he was there, the other he was not.

With a small lag, her brain started to function again and the thought hit her. Hammond had been reassigned. Colonel O'Neill was out. Weir was out.

_Who the heck was in command of the base?_

She turned tails and broke into a run in the direction of that red telephone.

* * *

Daniel found himself rather surprised in the middle of the swirling apparition void. That did not last long, however. Before he had time to comprehend that he did not choose any destination, he was in a circular room. 

Curse subconscious decisions.

Hogwarts headmaster's room.

"Who are you?" asked an irate voice, and Daniel noticed the wand trained on him by a wizened old man. Dumbledore aged somewhat in the previous twenty years.

"Now, now, you don't even recognise your dear boy, Professor?" The words were out before he could restrain himself. His inner self (as he referred to Harry Potter when he was forced to) was acting up today. No wonder, magic must have strengthened that locked-away part of him.

"Harry?" the headmaster asked his eyes blinking and his face becoming whiter. "That's impossible! You gave up your magic…"

"Well, I wanted it back. And now," Daniel pressed the last word. "Let's _talk_."

Dumbledore lowered the wand but did not tuck it away into one of his numerous pockets, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the archaeologist who'd been trained by three of the most paranoid (and best) SGC fighters.

"Harry, my boy," he started in a patronising voice. Daniel restrained himself and his magic from harming him. He didn't actually know what he wanted to talk about, or what the old man was talking about. It was his _sub_conscious that chose this place after all. But it seemed that he had something to say.

"I just wanted the best for you when I said she died. I could not know that you'd give up your magic because of it… Nor would you wait to hear out my explanation then." He went silent, his eyes twinkling merrily, a sure sign that he was up to something.

It took about five seconds for Daniel to piece together that little piece of information. Dumbledore. Lied. About. Hermione. Being. Dead.

It took another tenth of a second for him to launch a full-scaled Legilimency attack. The headmaster's weak but intricate Occlumency had no chance against the onslaught of raw power – he was clearly not expecting that kind of attack.

The old man collapsed onto the floor when Daniel finally released him.

"So you walked into the ritual, that's what caused it to fail and that's why her magic was in the room, but not connected to her body – or the fake one. Then you went on to pretend that she died. Then you told her that I died. You told everyone that I died and Hermione is missing." He summarised his findings in a voice that could have frozen the Sun itself.

"She lost her magic, Harry. She wouldn't be any good for you anymore."

Daniel's eyes narrowed into slits and he was focused on the headmaster's face, keeping eye contact. The old coot actually believed that? He didn't notice the slight moving of the wand near the floor.

"I'll be back to take care of you, Old man. Of that you can be sure."

He disappeared with a small pop.

* * *

Daniel didn't advertise his return to the SGC. He decided that he had a more important thing to do than explain things to Sam and Teal'c, he could always apologise later. But he _had to_ find Hermione. God, it tore his heart apart to think what Hermione must have felt with his death… if it was like anything he felt… He was on the edge of ending it all because he the pain and longing overwhelmed him. 

He discarded the thoughts. Hermione was strong, she was always strong, she was his beacon, the rock he could always cling to. Hermione. Would. Not. Have. Done. Anything. Harry. Considered. Doing. He repeated that a couple of times, trying to convince himself too.

The government search program booted up and for the first time since he joined the Stargate programme, he blessed high-security clearance and access to a lot of information he would not see as a simple archaeologist. Okay, so she was British, which might make his job difficult, but not impossible.

He did not notice his office door opening or Sam stepping in, but his head snapped up as his name was called. "Daniel? You're back?"

"Yes," he answered pointedly curtly. He wanted to find her so much that it almost hurt. He did not care if she was a muggle. He would not have cared if she was a junkie, a beggar, a whore, a waif, a criminal, a murderer. Hell, if she was Goauld or NID, he'd bring her back. Who cared if she had magic or not? How dare Dumbledore decide what was good for him. It was his _Hermione_, _his_ Hermione, more important than anything else in the world.

"I'm sorry that I mentioned Hermione Granger," Sam insisted on continuing the conversation.

"Sam, I'm trying to work here," he snapped at her. Then realised. She was talking about Hermione. "What do you know about Hermione?" he asked. Sam never even realised when he got up and grabbed her shoulders. But he was there, grasping them firmly. She did not expect this kind of reaction after the grief she saw earlier in the infirmary.

"Err, what do you want to know?" she asked weakly. This aggressiveness was so alien to her normally soft-spoken and anti-violence friend that she could not help being surprised at his nearly delirious attitude. And it scared her somewhat, quite frankly.

"Where is she? Is she alright? Does she still remember me? Does she still love me?" he blurted out the questions without even realising what he asked.

"Calm down," Sam finally snapped at him. Daniel blinked with those vivid green eyes – that would take some time getting used to – and realised that he was gripping her shoulders. That would leave bruises, she thought with a slight grimace.

"'M sorry," he answered meekly and released her. "But I really, really need to find her," he added in his best pleading voice.

"Your friend, Hermione Granger changed her name twenty years ago. She's fine and she still remembers you. I… don't know about her feelings," she continued with some hesitation. Sure she seemed very passionate about the memory, but that could mean lots of things.

"Do you know her new name?" Daniel asked, his earlier violent tone completely gone. He sounded like the time he lost Sha're.

"Dr Elizabeth Weir."

She blinked and looked at the spot his friend occupied a second ago. Daniel did it again. This magic thing could be dead useful against the Goauld, she mused and walked out of the door, with a small, but nevertheless present smile.

At least this time she knew where to find Daniel – the Infirmary. She needed to check on Colonel O'Neill anyway. Good thing General Hammond was coming back. Sam was pretty sure he could figure out these estranged lovers and maybe he could even contact the Asgard. Somehow. Until then she was in temporary command. Colonel Reynolds was one step higher in the chain of command (not to mention several other ranking officers) but the President appointed her. No one complained. Reynolds even congratulated her. The SGC was somewhat of a weird military installation.

* * *

Daniel appeared next to Elizabeth Weir's bed. He was getting dizzy with all these apparitions. There was something draining him as he apparated today, each and every time. Hogwarts, he could understand, but the SGC? 

He looked at the woman in the bed. Hermione has grown up to be incredibly pretty, beautiful, even. She always joked that she was just a bushy haired bookworm, but Harry – he was Harry then – knew that secretly she though of herself as ugly. Why every woman had the misconception, he did not know. For him, she was the most beautiful girl in the world – make that the universe. Always.

Gingerly putting a hand on her forehead he blew a kiss to her furrowed brows.

He felt magic pouring out of him but it was strange. Daniel did not feel himself weakening or missing the power that was leaving him. It was never his. He realised with a sudden jolt that it must have been Hermione's that she sacrificed on that day.

Magic smiled. Or did the metaphysical equivalent of a smile. Finally, _it_ managed to rejoin two of _its_ favourite children. _It_ and They have been through so many adventures and trials together. _It_ enjoyed Their love; _it_ was nurtured by Their love. Magic was very sad when They separated through the machinations of a third, but could not do a thing because the ancient laws demanded _its_ inaction.

But now He wanted _it_ back, and because He did not take _it_ from Her by force, _it_ was free to go back to Her too.

_Its_ lost children were once again _its_ children.


End file.
